The Alleyway
by Howling Shadow
Summary: John has been having a bad day...


The Alleyway

John had, had a tough day at the clinic, first of all Sarah seemed to be off with him just because he hadn't been in all last week due to a case with Sherlock. It wasn't his fault there was a triple homicide case on at the same time as flu season. Second of all, John started to begin to doubt whether he had a life anymore. He never had a girlfriend, because of Sherlock, and Stamford and he last had a night out three months ago. Everything seemed to be Sherlock related, the man was controlling his life.

John sighed and ran a hand through his hair, he hadn't gotten it cut in a while, it was quite long for him, Sherlock had taken to run his fingers through it. He had contemplated going to the pub and getting drunk but soon gave up that idea.

He was walking past an alleyway, when a pair of hands came out of no-where, grabbing him and pulling him into the alleyway. It was dark, dank and smelly but that was all John could process.

John was pushed against the cold hard brick wall. He managed to pull out his wallet with his fingers shaking.

'Just take it and leave me alone.' John said, as calmly as he could. He had the ability to stay calm in stressful situations. It was in the nature of a soldier.

The unknown stranger tucked the wallet back into John's pocket with nimble fingers.

The doctor frowned. 'What do you want from me?' he asked. He knew it was dangerous asking but he just had to know.

John didn't get an answer, the stranger placed his finger on John's lips. John froze, he didn't understand what this man was doing and why he was doing it. He held still, closed his eyes and waited for a knife to stab him in the gut or a gun to shoot him in the temple. Instead of feeling either of those, John felt a warm pair of lips on his.

The stranger pinned him against the wall and kissed him hungrily, His hands wondering slightly. John definitely knew it was a man now, he could feel his hard on poking him in the hip.

John's eyes opened in surprise but closed again after a few seconds, there was no point having his eyes open, he couldn't see a thing anyway.

What John did next was stupid and foolish of him, he wrapped one arm around the strangers neck, the other around his waist, and responded to the kiss.

John ignored the fact that he didn't know who this man was, all he thought about was the slide of wet lips, crashing like waves on the shore.

While the stranger was distracted he moved the hand that was around the stranger's waist and pulled out his phone, with a slight move of his wrist he unlocked the phone and shone the light in the strangers face, breaking the kiss.

Sherlock stared back at John in horror. His lips were bruised and red from kissing, his cheeks were tinted pink. John gasped, the stranger was Sherlock. He couldn't believe it. Well, a part of his brain did say that it was possible for Sherlock to want to do something like this, he was Sherlock after all.

John thought for a moment then swallowed, maybe it was one of Sherlock's many experiment's. That thought alone made him sick. He didn't want to feel like a human guinea pig, it wasn't right. John knew how keen Sherlock was on his experiments, I mean look at the kitchen on Saturday nights, it would be no surprise to him if this was an experiment. He shook his head. No this wasn't an experiment, the way Sherlock was looking at him was too intense, he looked like a deer in the headlights. A bit like a frightened child when they are found stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. John bit back a chuckle at the thought of a baby Sherlock stealing cookies. John looked into Sherlock's eyes, they were dilated, to the point they were almost black. Then John remembered, Sherlock was as hard as rock. John licked his lips. Sherlock was aroused and so was he.

John pocketed his phone and sank his fingers into Sherlock shirt, feeling the soft material rub against his finger tips.

The detective tried to pull away, but John gripped the front of Sherlock's shirt and kept his arm around his neck. He wasn't going to let him escape. John was tried of Sherlock getting so close to him then moving away in the last minute. He wanted Sherlock to know just how much John wanted him. It wasn't just a physical thing, John wanted to be close to Sherlock mentally. To know that the detective trusted him in ways no-one could. Maybe it was selfish of John, but he wanted to be the only one Sherlock needed. He liked the thought of Sherlock being his, to be able to kiss him whenever he wanted, to cuddle him and make him watch stupid films. John wanted to watch Sherlock Holmes walk around a crime scene like a stage, owning it and taking the audience of Yarders breath away, and know that this man belonged to him. He shuddered. Right, he was going to show Sherlock that he could play this game as well.

'Do you think you can kiss me like that and run away after? No way.' John said, a growled emitted from his throat.

He turned the around and pushed Sherlock against the wall. John had dreamed of kissing Sherlock after observing a crime scene, he imagined pushing Sherlock against a wall and having his way with him. He imagined every gentle kiss, every thrust. Sherlock crying out and his moans muffled by John's mouth, kissing the life out of him.

He leaned up, pressing his lips back to Sherlock, grinding his own bulge into Sherlock's. The detective let out a low groan and bucked his hips up, seeking friction.

John pulled away with a smirk. 'Not here, Sherlock, no, I want to do this at home.' He whispered, stroking Sherlock's cheek. 'Come on, I've had a bloody tough day, all I want is to ride you into my mattress, if that's alright with you?' John asked, giving Sherlock an innocent look.

Sherlock growled and took his hand, leading him out of the alleyway. 'Fucking tease.' he whispered in John's ear as they walked back to their flat.


End file.
